"What are you giving such concentrated thought to?" the Marquis asked teasingly as he came up beside the Contessa, slipping his arm around her waist
The Contessa turned to him, startled, then relaxed her features into a caressing smile. "Nothing, caro, nothing to concern you. I'm just planning how to spend our money," she prevaricated. For now, this discovery would be her secret, and should the little one become too difficult—then she would use this startling information to their advantage.
"Well, in all modesty, Luciana, my daughters are causing quite a sensation," he boasted, a satisfied smile on his lips as he watched Mary and Sabrina dance past in the arms of two very eligible partners. "I do not foresee any difficulties in obtaining sons-in-law with the necessary requirements, my dear. No trouble at all."
Sabrina lost count of the names and faces of the rich suitors the Marquis paraded before her. Her feet were tired and her head ached abominably. If only she could sit down for a brief moment
"I swear I cannot move another inch," she told the young man who was dancing with her. She gave him a dimpled smile, her violet eyes glowing behind the mask as she stared up at him.
"Of course, my dear Lady Sabrina, how thoughtless of me not to see how fatigued you are," the young gentleman quickly apologized, masking his disappointment at losing such a delectable creature as a partner. He led her off the floor, reluctant to part with her, and spying a footman with a tray of champagne-filled goblets, suggested shyly, "If you would care for a breath of fresh air, allow me to escort you into the garden, and then I will fetch you some champagne?"
Sabrina smiled gratefully, her eyes lighting up with genuine warmth. "That would be marvelous, you are too kind."
The young gentleman beamed with pleasure as he stared in bemusement into Sabrina's beautiful eyes, then making a flustered departure disappeared back into the crowd as Sabrina relaxed on a stone seat beneath the balustrade of a balcony. She had only been sitting there a moment when she was startled from her relaxed state by the sound of voices practically beside her. She glanced about quickly but saw no one, then smiled as she realized the voices were coming from overhead. The couple had obviously sought a rendezvous in the seclusion of the balcony. "You're late."
"I'm sorry, Percy, but I couldn't get away from him," Blanche complained sulkily. "You've hardly noticed me at all. I've seen you watching that creature in the mask."
"Come now, Blanche, you know it's you I love," Percy placated her. "I was merely curious about her, that is all."
There was a prolonged silence, and then Sabrina heard a muted giggle.
"Now, does that prove to you that I love you?" Percy demanded smoothly.
"Oh, Percy, I wish we could be together all of the time," Blanche pouted.
"As a matter of fact, Blanche, I've been thinking that we might find that time tonight," Percy suggested.
"Tonight? But how on earth can we?" Blanche asked, excitement quivering in her voice.
"You merely tell my dear cousin that you've the migraine and must leave the ball, then I'll slip away as well," he explained persuasively.
"Oh, I don't know?" Blanche hesitated doubtfully.
"If you're worried about my dear cousin, then don't be. He'll never miss you. All he had eyes for was that bewitching creature in black and silver."
Sabrina smiled without amusement, wondering if she had danced with the poor fiance, now being deceived by his cousin and fiancée?
"All right," Blanche decided suddenly. "Ill meet you, but where?"
"We must be most careful that no one suspects. If you tell my cousin directly, he'll insist upon you making use of his carriage, so just send him a message that you've left, then hire a coach to take you home, only stop around the corner and I'll be along to pick you up in mine."
Sabrina remained silent as she heard them depart, a cynical smile on her lips as she thought of their little deception. She sighed impatiently wondering where the young man was who'd gone to fetch her a glass of champagne. Sabrina heard the sound of approaching footsteps and looked up expectantly, a smile of welcome on her face.
"I thought you had forgotten me," she said softly.
"Forget you, Sabrina, never," a mocking voice answered as the approaching figure stopped in front of her.
Sabrina gave a small cry of fear as she stared up in dismay at the tall, silk-clad form of the Duke of Camareigh. "Lucien," she whispered faintly.
"I beg your pardon, it is Lady Sabrina Verrick, is it not?" Lucien corrected himself sarcastically, his lips twisted into a faint smile of contempt. "I saw you leave with your admirer, and decided to substitute for him, much to his disap-pointment," he told her, and reaching out grasped her arms with hard fingers that closed about her in a vise-like grip. "Now answer me, damn you!"
"Yes." Sabrina confirmed her identity, wincing as he released one arm from his painful grip to jerk her mask from her face. Sabrina stared mutely up at him, as he pulled her to her feet.
"So, history repeats itself. I seem destined to be the one to unmask you, and each time I am surprised by the revelation." He stared down into her pale face, the light from the balcony above shining down on them. His mouth curved into a sneer as he accused her. "How you must have laughed, what a fool you must have thought me."
He laughed bitterly. "I could scarce believe my eyes when I first saw you dance past. I thought I must be seeing a ghost."
"You recognized me?" Sabrina asked in disbelief.
"You may now be wearing skirts, but the mask is the same. Ironic, isn't it? I must compliment you on your audaciousness. Or maybe you are so accustomed to wearing your mask that you feel naked without it? A pity for you that I happened to be here tonight to spoil your little game. Did you really imagine that you could deceive me? Your arrogant swagger gave you away."
Sabrina avoided his eyes and the smouldering rage she could see held in check. "I didn't think that I would see you," she said weakly.
Lucien gave her an abrupt shake, making her head jerk up. "Damn you, what is your game, Sabrina? What is the daughter of a Marquis doing dressed up as a highwayman? Is he in this with you?" he demanded. Then suddenly a thought struck him and he gave her a penetrating look. "He doesn't know, does he? Answer me! Does he?" Lucien's grip became unbearable and Sabrina cried out.
"Let me go! You're hurting me, Lucien."
"Tell me what I want to know first, then I will release you," he bargained.
"No, he doesn't know," Sabrina admitted in defeat
Lucien's grip loosened, but he did not let her free completely. "No, I thought his performance the night you held up my coach far too realistic to be an act. Besides, he and the Contessa had just arrived in England after years abroad, so he couldn't be aware of your activities. In fact, if I remember correctly, he commented that he had not seen his family in years." He gave a sudden laugh of pure amusement. "This is priceless. You held up your own father. Did you know it when you did it?"
Sabrina gave him a defiant glance from under her lashes, her initial fright at his sudden appearance fading as her resentment built. "No, I did not know who he was. It was only when I met the Contessa that I realized what had happened. As the Marquis told you, we haven't been an especially close family."
"I want a few answers, Sabrina," Lucien said quietly, "and you shall not escape me this time," he warned with a glint in his eyes.
"Who the devil do you think you are? You have no right to interfere in my life."
"I have every right," Lucien contradicted coolly, his grip tightening in anger. "I think you owe me a few explanations, Sabrina."
"I owe you nothing! What can you do? You certainly can't reveal the truth about me. It would be far too embarrassing for you as well. Besides, I am no longer playing the highwayman. That should satisfy you," she told him.
"I will not be satisfied until I know everything about you, Sabrina," he retorted. "You are an enigma, and a challenge to me which I cannot resist When I think of the wild cha
se you've led me on, damned if you aren't the most exasperating female," he swore beneath his breath.
"No one asked you to follow. No one asked you to interfere, and it is obvious that we only anger one another, so I would appreciate it, no, I demand that you do not concern yourself with my affairs," Sabrina told him defiantly.
Lucien's jaw hardened and he cursed her beneath his breath before pulling her against him roughly. "I swore I'd find you and make you pay for playing me the fool, and by God I shall. Regardless of whether you're the daughter of a Marquis or a footman, you'll pay, Sabrina," he promised before his mouth found hers and he began to kiss the angry defiance from her as his lips moved hungrily against hers. Sabrina struggled against him, unwilling to have her lips betray her true feelings for this arrogant Duke, but he would not be denied and kept kissing her until her lips began to soften beneath his.
"Sabrina!" a voice called from the path.
Lucien raised his head reluctantly, listening as he heard the voice call out again. Sabrina was breathing heavily as she struggled from Lucien's arms, managing to free herself except for her wrist, which Lucien wrapped his fingers around.
The Marquis found them standing side by side as he marched forward angrily, not recognizing the Duke at first. "Where the devil have you been, Sabrina? Sir, I demand that—" the Marquis began curtly, only to stop as he recognized the man standing beside Sabrina. "Why, Your Grace, I had no idea!" He looked sharply at Sabrina's flushed cheeks and bright eyes, and then nervously at the Duke. "If you'll excuse us, Your Grace, I would like my daughter to meet a few people. This is her first introduction to society and as she is new, she isn't aware that it is bad for her reputation to walk alone in the gardens with a gentleman. Sabrina," he said in a tight voice, taking her arm in a firm grip as he eased her away from the Duke. "Well see you later, perhaps, Your Grace?"
Lucien smiled coldly. "My apologies for detaining your daughter," he replied casually, before walking away.
"What the devil do you think you were up to?" the Marquis accused Sabrina, turning on her as soon as the Duke was out of sight. "Hell ruin your reputation, and then we can't get anyone to wed you."
"I had little choice in the matter," Sabrina answered shortly, her nerves still taut from her meeting with Lucien. "I can hardly snub a Duke, can I?"
The Marquis sighed irritably. "No, but it won't do you any good, my girl, to be setting your sights on him, for he is practically wed. He and his fiancée are set to be married next week," the Marquis informed her, not seeing the anguish that entered her eyes at his news. "A pity, for he's damned rich."
The rest of the evening seemed to pass in a haze of unfamiliar voices and faces. Every time Sabrina glanced up she was aware of the Duke's presence; he was always there staring with sherry-colored eyes, a cynical twist to his lips as he watched the Marquis maneuvering his daughters into the upper circle of eligible bachelors, especially that of the Duke of Granston.
Sabrina was pale and wan-looking when the Marquis finally decided to end the evening, his unconcealed smile of triumph at the success of the evening sickening her. Sabrina glanced uncomfortably at the Contessa, whose complacent smile and knowing eyes that studied her every move seemed to hint at a shared secret But what could she have possibly found out Sabrina wondered? She twisted her fingers together nervously, feeling as though a rope were tightening around her neck. Sabrina glanced curiously at the silent Mary, who had a hand pressed to her temple thoughtfully. She would have to find out what Mary was feeling—if she sensed anything.
But Sabrina didn't have to ask Mary, for she sought Sabrina out later that night as they undressed for bed, her gray eyes worried as she confronted Sabrina.
"I don't like this situation at all," she began as she threaded her hair into a thick braid over her shoulder. "I feel something is about to happen, Rina, and I don't know if we can stop it"
"Stop what?"
"It's a who," she corrected Sabrina. "It's the Duke. I saw him tonight. Before it has only been in dreams, but tonight I actually saw him in the flesh, and, Sabrina, he frightens me. He is such a cruel-looking man," she said shuddering, "and he had eyes only for you, Rina. He recognized you, didn't he?"
Sabrina nodded her head worriedly. "Yes, and now he knows who I am, but I don't know what he can do. I really don't think anyone would believe his story; besides, it would only cause a scandal, and I know he would not desire that." Her violet eyes were clouded as she looked to Mary for answers. "But I don't trust him, Mary. He wants revenge against something he believes I did to him, and I don't think he'll rest until he has it—and that means ruining me in some way. I don't know what to do," Sabrina whispered shakily.
"I want to go back to Verrick House, Rina," Mary told her suddenly, a new firmness in her voice. "I feel it's dangerous for us to be here in London."
Sabrina raised her face from her hands. "Dangerous?" Sabrina asked incredulously. "Surely you don't think Lucien would try to harm me that way?"
"No, I don't feel physical danger from him, although I know he means to cause trouble, Rina," Mary explained. "But I am disturbed by something, some feeling of evil I felt this evening. I felt so chilled, so deathly still, that I know someone has died, Rina, and in some way we are involved." Mary grasped Sabrina's hands, her hands so cold that Sabrina shivered as she touched her.
"You see! We've got to leave here, Rina, and soon," Mary pleaded with her.
Sabrina bit her lip until it hurt. "How can we? You know what the Marquis threatened about Richard and Aunt Margaret Hell do it too, unless we give in to him." Sabrina sniffed, her eyes filling with tears she tried to hold in check. "I don't know what we can do. m have to think of something to spoil the Marquis' plans, and soon. At least there is nothing the Duke can do. Besides," Sabrina added huskily, "we needn't worry about him much longer for he is to be married next week, and I doubt whether he will be giving a thought to me. He'll have other things to occupy his mind. I'm not going to worry about him, for I must devote all my energies to the Marquis."
Mary nodded absently and crawled into bed still feeling chilled. She tried to sleep, but in the back of her mind she could still see the image of a coach on a lonely road, hear a scream of terror and then the silence that came from a grave. How this could possibly have anything to do with them still puzzled her as she dropped off into a restless sleep.
Percy Rathbourne stared down at the crumpled form of Lady Blanche Delande. He rubbed his bloodied hands distastefully on his breeches, mindless of the stain, just anxious to remove the stickiness from his hands. He continued to stare in fascination at Blanche's body. She was dead. He had stabbed her through the heart. He was surprised how easy it had been, but then she had been so trusting until she had seen the gleaming blade and felt its coldness against her skin. Then she had given that horrible scream. Percy shook his head. He could still hear it ringing in his ears.
He continued unconsciously to rub his hands against his thighs as he pondered what to do next He had led Blanche some distance from the road into the woods, despite her reluctance to enter them in the dark. If he just left her here and quietly walked back to the coach where only his coachman awaited, then how would the man know that she wasn't already in the coach? Then he would have him stop at some corner in town and pretend the lady had gotten out. He would never realize she had never gotten back in the coach.
Percy smiled in satisfaction, looking down at Blanche's body dispassionately. "You didn't really imagine that I would allow you to cheat Kate and me out of our inheritance, did you, Blanche?" he asked softly. "You were such a silly little fool to imagine that you would become mistress of Camareigh. Poor, foolish little Blanche," he mocked, his hands still rubbing against his thighs as he tried to wipe them clean of her blood. "Lucien is finished. By the time he discovers you are gone, it will be too late for him to find another bride that the Duchess will approve of, and Camareigh will be mine."
He turned and without a backward g
lance at her body left the small clearing where he had murdered Blanche Delande. He made his way back to his coach waiting on the deserted road, a smile of anticipation on his face. Kate would be so proud of him. They had actually won against Lucien. He could hardly wait to see Lucien's face when he found his fiancée and fortune had escaped his grasp. Poor Lucien, he chuckled, as he settled back against the cushions of the seat for the long ride back to London.
There is no love lost, sir.
Miguel de Cervantes
Chapter 9
SABRINA was fastening a pearl earring into the lobe of her ear when Mary entered her room, her dress rustling as she moved forward.
"You know, Mary," Sabrina spoke to her reflection in the mirror. "Maybe the solution to our problem lies right here under this roof."
"What do you mean, Rina?" Mary demanded nervously as she came up behind Sabrina. At the Duke of Granston's invitation they were spending the weekend at his estate outside of London.
Sabrina turned around and stared up at Mary defiantly. "Why shouldn't I marry the Duke? It would solve all of our problems. We would be free from debt and worries. The Marquis could be paid off. It is obvious that the Duke is interested in us. You've seen the way he leers."
"You can't, Rina," Mary cried. "Why, he's horrid. He's a drunken slob. Oh, Rina, please, don't even consider it," she begged.
Sabrina's mouth tightened. "I really don't think we've any other choice. I've tried to think of some way of getting enough money to satisfy the Marquis, but it's hopeless. I could begin robbing again, but it's far too risky to do it at the rate I'd have to if I intended to get enough for the Marquis. Besides, Will and John are out of it now, and I won't get them involved in a personal problem. No, this is our easiest solution. How could I be so selfish to put my personal distastes over the needs of my family? If it means sacrificing myself to the Duke of Granston, then I will."
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